Nott halted upon his ground during the following day, and on the 1st of September resumed his march. On the 5th, he was before Ghuznee. The day was spent in desultory fighting. Shumshoodeen, who had been reinforced from Caubul by Sultan Jan, occupied with a strong body of horse and foot some heights to the north-east of the fortress. The gay attire and fine chargers of the chiefs made them conspicuous even at a distance.[293] The gardens, the ravines, and water-courses were filled with jezailchees; and the city seemed to be swarming with men. Before encamping his force, Nott determined to clear the heights; and gallantly the work was done. Our troops ascended in noble style, and drove the enemy before them until every point was gained.[294] In the mean time the camp had been pitched. Two infantry regiments and two guns were left out to occupy the heights, and the remainder of the troops were then withdrawn.
Scarcely, however, had the troops entered their camp, when the great Ghuznee gun, the “Zubbur Jung,” began to open upon it. It was plain that Nott had taken up a position too near to the enemy’s works. Fourteen shots were thrown into our camp without doing any mischief; but the warning was not thrown away. The tents were struck, and the camp was moved to another position, in the vicinity of the village of Roza.[295] The movement was not without danger;[296] but the enemy wanted spirit to turn it to good account—and in their new position our troops were secure.[297]
Before sunset the firing had ceased. Sanders, the engineer, a man of rare talent, now began to make his arrangements for the siege of Ghuznee. It was not believed that the defence would be conducted with much vigour. The fort was very poorly manned. It was obvious that Shumshoodeen had trusted more to external operations. The tribes who had been summoned for the defence of the city had already begun to lose heart. When they saw our engineers at work busily constructing their batteries, they called upon Shumshoodeen to come within the walls, and take his share of the dangers of the siege. Vainly he represented that his cavalry were of greater service beyond the walls—vainly he set forth that as there was no barley in the city his horses could not be fed. They had made up their minds to evacuate the place; and when night closed in upon them, they moved out quietly by the water-gate of the city, and betook themselves to the hills. Seeing now that all was over, Shumshoodeen mounted his horse, and with a small party of followers fled to Caubul.
The engineers worked busily throughout the night; but as the batteries took shape under their hands, the stillness within the walls of Ghuznee aroused their suspicions. So at early dawn, with a party of some twenty men, North, the engineer, went down to reconnoitre; and finding the water-gate open, and the city apparently abandoned, sent intelligence to the party on the hill, and the 16th Regiment, which had remained out to protect the working parties, was marched down to occupy the place. They found it almost deserted. A few Hindoos and some Sepoys of the unfortunate 27th Regiment were the only occupants of Ghuznee.[A] And when, at early dawn, the officers of Nott’s camp looked through their telescopes towards the citadel, they plainly saw our Sepoys on the ramparts. Soon the British flag was waving from the highest tower, and Shumshoodeen’s artillery, worked by his enemies, was roaring out a royal salute in honour of their triumph. The General and his staff rode out from camp to inspect the place, and to make arrangements for its destruction. They found the city a mass of ruins; and in the houses which had been occupied by the officers of Palmer’s garrison, many sorrowful mementoes of the sufferings they had endured, written or scratched on the walls. The citadel was in good repair, and every one who inspected it marvelled how it happened that Palmer had yielded it up, and trusted himself and his men to the honour of his treacherous opponents.[298]
And now began the work of destruction. The artillery officers burst the enemy’s guns, and the engineers ran mines and exploded them, under different parts of the works. After this the town and citadel were fired. The wood-work soon ignited, and all through the night the flames of the burning fortress lit up the over-hanging sky.[299]
But there was something else now to be done. At the village of Roza, in the vicinity of Ghuznee, is the tomb of Sultan Mahmoud. A peculiar odour of sanctity is exhaled from that shrine. The priests, in whose guardianship it is held, have their traditions concerning it, in which the spurious greatly prevails. Its boasted antiquity is not supported by any credible evidence; and when Major Rawlinson carried to the examination of the inscriptions on the tomb all that profound knowledge and acute penetration which have since attained for him, in the Eastern and in the Western world, so wide a celebrity as the first of Oriental antiquaries, he had at once detected unmistakeable proofs of their belonging to a more recent period than the Moollahs had claimed for them.[300] Still the shrine was a venerable one, and by the priesthood of Afghanistan held in no common esteem. The famous sandal-wood gates of Somnauth, which Mahmoud had carried off from their home in Guzerat, were deposited at the conqueror’s tomb. Such at least had long been the popular faith; and among the priesthood and the people of Afghanistan, no one doubted that the trophies were genuine. It was reserved for European scepticism to cast discredit upon the reality of the sacred relics.
But, whether genuine or spurious, upon these gates Lord Ellenborough had fixed his desires. What he knew about them, where he had read of them, or by whom his attention was drawn to them, History cannot determine. It is sufficient that on the 4th of July, when the Governor-General wrote to General Nott, authorising him to “retire” to the provinces of India, by the route of Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad, he inserted in this memorable letter a paragraph instructing the General to despoil the tomb of Sultan Mahmoud. “You will bring away,” he wrote, “from the tomb of Mahmoud of Ghuznee, his club, which hangs over it, and you will bring away the gates of his tomb, which are the gates of the Temple of Somnauth.” So, on the 8th of September, under Sanders’s superintendence, the gates of Mahmoud’s tomb were carried off, as tenderly as they could perform the duty, by a party of English soldiers. The Moollahs wept bitterly. But the shrine was not otherwise profaned; and the excitement which the spoliation created scarcely extended beyond the holy circle of the priesthood.[301]
Onward went Nott with his trophies. On the 12th he was before Sydeabad, where Woodburn and his men had been decoyed and massacred. This fort was at once destroyed; and another was fired by the camp-followers.[302] On the following day the enemy crowned the hills on both flanks; but not until the 14th did they appear in sufficient numbers, or assume such an attitude, as to bring on a collision with our advancing troops. On that day, near Mydan, Nott attacked them on the heights. It seemed that Shumshoodeen and Sultan Jan had determined to make a last stand for the defence of the capital; but having hitherto gained so little advantage by meeting us in the open country, had resolved to try the effect of opposing us at the gorge of the hills stretching towards Mydan. Here they had thrown up breastworks. Nott, however, precipitated the engagement, and carried the contest to the heights.[303] All arms were now engaged. The day was a busy one. It was one of doubtful victory on either side. The heights were carried; but they were not held. And when night fell upon the contending hosts, and the moon again lit up the scene, it seemed that the work was not yet done. A busy night was looked for as the sequel of a busy day. But suddenly the exertions of the enemy slackened. News of the defeat of Akbar Khan at Tezeen had reached the camp of the chiefs. They seemed to have changed their tactics, and to have moved off to Urghundeh—a place a few miles nearer to the capital.